


The Face of Evil

by valda



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Apologism, First Dates, Lack of Self-Awareness, M/M, Moral Justification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15048887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: Hux has done the unthinkable and asked Kylo Ren out on a date. What will they even do? Will Kylo like him?





	The Face of Evil

“What do you do on a date though?” Hux groaned into his brandy. “I should never have asked him, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Phasma patted him roughly on the back in a way that was probably meant to be comforting. “It’ll be fine,” she drawled. “You just do something you enjoy that can be done with more than one person.”

“What do I even enjoy?” Hux was at a loss. “Sitting around drinking with you? I can’t very well invite you on the date. And does he even drink?”

“Arms,” Phasma said, “you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it has to be. It’s just a date. Just take him back to your quarters—”

“I’m not that kind of man!” Hux yelped, face going hot. Scandalized, he glanced quickly around to see if any of the other officers in the club were looking. At the next table, Lt. Mitaka was staring intently into his beer. So he’d heard, then. Wonderful. What speculation might be running through the  _Finalizer_ gossip mill tomorrow?

Phasma was grinning when he turned back to her. “Well, that’s not what I meant, but interesting that it’s the first place your mind went.”

“What did you mean, then?” Hux asked. Maybe if he completely ignored the second half of her statement, she wouldn’t press it.

…or maybe not, he thought glumly as Phasma leaned in close. “Is the general looking forward to having sex with Kylo Ren?” she purred. At least she’d kept her voice down.

“Phas,” Hux said pleadingly. “Don’t tease me.”

“Teasing you is one of the great enjoyments of my life, Arms. It’s why I get out of bed in the morning.”

Hux downed the rest of his brandy in one gulp.

“If he wanted to, would you do it on the first date?”

“Phas.”

“Are you going to do a little trimming down there, just in case? Or I have some wax you could use.”

“ _Phas_.”

“What about your underwear? Got anything special? I know a guy—”

“Phas, for the love and glory of the Empire—”

“Oh,” Phasma interrupted, snapping her fingers. “Are you gonna let him fuck you? That takes special prep, right?”

“…you did not just ask me that.”

“I know what’s involved,” Phasma said, and then she leaned even closer, the laser-burn scent of her starfire ‘skee filling Hux’s nose. “One of your officers is  _really_ into pegging. Wanna know who?”

“No, thank you,” Hux said, leaning away.

“It’s not who you think.”

“Who do you think I think? Wait, don’t answer that.” Hux shook his head; the room wobbled slightly. “Phas, I’ve hit my limit,” he said, putting a hand to his forehead. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Aw, the armchair general runs at the first sign of real danger?”

Yes, it was definitely time to go. Phasma was slipping out of “obnoxious drunk” and into “mean drunk.” Hux slid off his stool. “Good night, Phas,” he said, and began to walk away.

“You should let him fuck you,” Phasma said to his back, a little too loudly. He clenched his fists, started walking faster. “I bet he’d tear you in half!”

Hux fled the officers’ club.

~

If she hadn’t been talking about sex to begin with, Hux thought as he carefully downed two painkillers and chased them with an entire glass of water, then what had she meant to advise Hux to do with Kylo Ren in his quarters?

It wasn’t that Hux didn’t  _want_ to have sex with Kylo Ren—

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d have to worry about this later; for now, he had three shifts on the bridge ahead of him. Sighing, he stepped out of his quarters, turned, and strode down the corridor.

“Sir?”

Hux startled, somehow managing not to leap away from the officer who’d suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Lieutenant,” he said, nodding as if he had not just been completely taken off guard.

Mitaka fell into step at his flank, hands clasped behind his back. “I was wondering, sir, if you…that is…I have some ideas, maybe, for your date?”

Hux stopped walking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I was right next to the bar,” Mitaka said in a rush.

“No, please,” Hux said, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. “I appreciate your consideration.”

Mitaka smiled in obvious relief. “All right,” he said. “So there are really two problems. First, it’s hard to find a date activity on-ship. We don’t really waste space here, so there aren’t as many options as you’d have on-planet. Second, there isn’t much privacy. Not many quiet places to talk with someone.”

Hux was thankful that Mitaka did not assume the privacy would be used for anything else—or, if he did, that he didn’t mention it. “So what do you propose?”

“One option is to simply do the things you would normally do, but together. So a workout, for example. You could be each other’s spotters.”

Hux considered this. It seemed early to allow Ren to become intimately acquainted with the extent of his physical capabilities. “Perhaps,” he said doubtfully.

“You could take a meal together in the officers’ club,” Mitaka continued. “You could book it for yourself, so there wouldn’t be anyone else around.”

Now that was an idea. Hux tapped his chin. “That’s good,” he said.

Mitaka almost beamed. “Thank you, sir. There’s also the forward conference rooms, the ones with viewports? That might be a nice place for a quiet conversation. You could take dessert there. It would be pretty romantic.” Mitaka suddenly seemed to remember who he was talking to; he quickly added, “Sir.”

“All right,” Hux said. He ignored Mitaka’s familiarity. It was a bit irregular, but so was the entire conversation. So was Hux’s reason for having it, for that matter. “Dinner and dessert. Would those be the only date…er, activities?”

“Not necessarily, sir,” Mitaka said. “There’s the recreation area. That would be more public, but there are things to do there. Like the shooting range, or the game room, or the holotheater.”

Hux did not want to dismiss Mitaka’s suggestions out of hand, but the shooting range and the game room just seemed like opportunities for Ren to one-up him. He’d been wondering if this was a bad idea since the fateful words  _Ren, I want you to go on a date with me_  slipped through his lips, but now his concern was shifting into panic. Was there even anything they could do together?

“What’s playing at the holotheater?” he asked desperately, hands curling into fists.

“Well, you can have them play whatever you want, but right now the schedule’s got a horror holo that’s pretty good. Captain Phasma took me to see it last week.”

Hux’s head whipped around, causing his dull headache to flare into hot needles of pain. Was Mitaka dating Phasma? Did that mean…

No, no, he did not want to think about his lieutenant in that way.

Hux pinched the bridge of his nose again, willed the painkillers to start working. Mitaka shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Horror,” Hux said. “What kind of horror? Is it a thriller, or more like a series of jump scares?”

“It’s a thriller,” Mitaka said, “and it gets really intense. There are definitely some jump scares, though. That’s kind of romantic too,” he confided, “because—” He broke off. “Sorry.”

“Nonsense,” Hux said, “I am asking your advice. There’s no need to apologize. Why is it—” and he fought vainly against the flush he felt rising high on his cheekbones, “—romantic?”

“Well,” Mitaka said, his voice going quiet, “if you get scared, your date will kind of…want to protect you.” And then he was actually scuffing his foot against the floor.

“Hmm,” Hux said, and at that Mitaka looked up in alarm.

“I mean!” he said. “I don’t think you’d be scared of a holo, sir! I meant 'you’ to mean anyone, like your date—” Then he went silent, almost certainly because the idea of Kylo Ren being scared of a holo was completely ludicrous.

“Don’t worry about it, Lieutenant,” Hux said. “Thank you for your input. I will take it all under advisement. Go ahead to the bridge; I have a small matter to attend to.”

As Mitaka marched stoically down the hall, Hux took a long, slow breath and forced himself not to slump against the bulkhead. He had a lot to think about, but at the moment he was having trouble pushing a certain image out of his mind. It was silly, it was beneath him, and it was the sort of thing that had gotten him into this predicament in the first place.

Hux let the scene play out in his imagination anyway: sitting in a darkened theater next to Kylo Ren, close to him, knees touching maybe, and at a certain point in the holo pretending to be scared, jumping, perhaps making a soft sound, leaning toward him…and Kylo Ren wrapping a big, strong arm around his shoulders.

~

The third problem with trying to go on a date on a military vessel, of course, was attire. Hux didn’t think it would be quite proper to requisition civilian clothing for personal use, so he was left to choose from his dress uniform, his standard uniform, his combat uniform, and his physical training uniform. The dress uniform was far too formal, and Ren saw the standard uniform every day. The physical training uniform, on the other hand, was extremely casual. He might as well wear pajamas.

Hux frowned at his combat uniform, the uniform he would wear should he ever have need to visit a hot zone. It gave the impression of going to war. Hux supposed a date might be compared to a battle, but he didn’t want to make Ren think he was looking for a fight. The jacket at least had to go.

The trousers were thick, made to endure harsh conditions, but more fitted than those of his standard uniform. They were a drab sort of tan with large pockets. He’d wear the brown boots that went with them, but he’d leave the matching gloves behind. For the shirt…

It was within regulations to wear a short-sleeved shirt of a respectable color with combat uniform trousers. Hux surveyed his small selection and realized he had no colored shirts at all; they were all black and gray. Gray wouldn’t match, so black it was.

Hux tucked in the shirt, buckled the belt, and surveyed himself critically in the mirror. Was he too casual? Should he—but there was really nothing else to be done, was there? The blaster-resistant vest that went over the uniform jacket would hardly help matters, and there were no other options.

Perhaps he should have a set of civilian clothes made for him after all, to keep on hand. Standard sizes rarely fit him anyway, he reasoned, so having something premade would ensure he would be prepared for a planetside mission at all times.

It was too late for that tonight, unfortunately; Hux was due to meet Ren at the officers’ club in ten minutes.

He glanced over to his desk, where he’d laid his datapad. Should he take it? He might be needed, and it would be convenient to have. And it would fit in one of these huge pockets.

But. Bringing work along on a date seemed incredibly rude. Hux let out a huffing sigh. No, this evening was going to happen properly. No distractions.

He stared at his reflection, checking his hair, willing the nervousness from his face.

He was going on a date with Kylo Ren.

~

Hux arrived at the officers’ club exactly on time. He swept through the hatch as the door slid away, eyes darting around the room to ensure everything was still in order. Thankfully, it appeared that nothing had changed since he checked the space earlier that afternoon; the lights were set slightly lower than usual, soothing music was playing quietly in the background, the tables were covered with crisp white cloths, and the table at the center of the room was graced by a tall drinking glass containing a decorative faux blossom. There wasn’t much to be had in terms of luxury on a ship like this, but Hux had made do.

Yes, everything was as he’d left it, except there was a stranger in the otherwise empty room, standing at the bar. He wore flowing red robes that Hux didn’t recognize as being part of any First Order uniform, and something was sparkling in his wavy black hair.

“Excuse me,” Hux said, stepping forward, “the club is reserved—”

The man turned, and Hux sucked in a breath. “General Hux,” Kylo Ren said, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Ren,” Hux stammered. “I didn’t…recognize you.”

Honestly, what had he expected? That Ren would wear the uniform of the Knights of Ren? That he would go on a date in helmet and hood?

Ren closed the distance between them. “These are the robes of the old Imperial Guard,” he explained. “Worthy attire for the protector of the throne. There’s a special helmet, too, but I brought my own instead.”

Of course. Ren would  _have_ to wear his helmet at some point, if they expected to engage in any public date activities. Hux noticed now that Ren’s usual helmet was indeed sitting on the bar.

“Shall we, General?” Ren asked, gesturing to the table.

“Armitage,” Hux blurted. “My–my name is Armitage.”

Ren smiled again, and it was the strangest thing. It took a moment for Hux to realize why: tonight was the first time he’d ever seen it happen. “Armitage,” Ren repeated, and the sound of his name in that low purr of a voice sent a hot jolt straight through Hux’s body. “And you may call me Kylo.”

“Kylo,” Hux said, and it was with effort that he did not add “Ren.” He nodded at the table. “Yes, let’s have dinner.”

The food wasn’t anything special; it would be some time before the next supply shipment, and the  _Finalizer_ had not had reason to linger at any planets lately, so all he’d had to work with was the same cafeteria fare all the other officers were having tonight. There was a wedge of protein, a cluster of noodles in sauce, and a salad. Hux had helped himself to a few extra bread rolls for the table.

Ren was quiet, eating steadily, gazing at Hux for long moments before turning his attention back to his plate. He ate elegantly, Hux noted, as though he had been trained in etiquette. But then of course he had. That was easy to forget, given his usual demeanor.

“Is that…traditional?” Hux asked finally. “Somewhere? To wear those robes.”

Ren chuckled. “Hardly. They are part of my collection. I thought they might be more appropriate for dinner than a modern warrior’s robes.”

“Ah,” Hux said. “Do you—have you ever worn a First Order uniform?” He mentally kicked himself. Ren in uniform, perfectly pressed, shimmery tunic putting his broad chest and shoulders on display, was something he’d been rather curious to see for quite some time now. But it was far too soon to bring it up. Now he was in danger of showing his hand.

“I was issued a duty uniform,” Ren said, “but I have never had reason to wear it.”

“Ah,” Hux said again. He could hardly ask Ren to put it on for him, could he? No. No, he could not. Hux sawed off a chunk of protein and drew it to his mouth to keep himself from saying anything stupid.

After a moment of silence, Ren spoke again. “So what do you have planned for this evening, Gen—Armitage?”

Hux knew he was blushing and rather wanted to sink through the floor. “Well,” he said, licking his lips nervously, “after dinner I thought we’d take in a holo at the recreation area. And then…” He trailed off. He was looking forward to the end of the evening the most, but he wasn’t sure he should spoil it. Then again, would it really seem all that special to Ren…?

“And then…?” Ren asked, raising an eyebrow, and then he smirked a little.

Hux let out a rather undignified sound as he jolted in his chair, jostling the table a bit. “That’s not—I mean—I wasn’t implying—”

“Armitage,” Ren said. He was smiling, though he also looked a little confused. “So…it’s a surprise? The next thing.”

“Yes,” Hux said, relieved. “It’s nothing huge, just something I thought would be nice.”

“I look forward to it,” Ren said.

~

They sat in silence long after the dessert and caf were gone, propped back on their palms with their legs stretched out, enjoying the expanse of stars that lay beyond the viewport. All in all it had been a lovely date. Kylo had taken Hux’s arm as they strolled from the officer’s mess to the holotheater and again when they came here to the largest forward conference room, and the combination of the warm press of Kylo’s hand on his bicep and the way Kylo looked in his helmet and brilliant red robes made Hux feel so light it was as though the artificial gravity was malfunctioning. Everyone had seen them together. The most powerful man in the First Order—at least in terms of physical strength—was on a date with  _Hux_.

There had been awkward moments, and he hadn’t quite managed to fake being frightened by the holo, but on the whole Hux felt confident there would be a next time. Maybe…maybe he’d work up the courage to kiss Kylo, then.

He was shifting his hand slowly toward Kylo’s when: “You’re so…normal,” Kylo said.

Hux blinked, flattening his palm against the hard metal floor. “Er. Beg pardon?”

“You’re just…a person.”

“Of course I’m a person,” Hux frowned.

“It’s just…you’re not what I expected.”

Hux pushed forward, folding himself into a cross-legged position and resting his forearms on his knees. “What did you expect?” he asked.

“When I first met you, I’d heard how quickly you’d risen through the ranks, how…ruthless you’d been. I thought for sure…” Kylo trailed off.

Hux kept his eyes fixed on the viewport, though he wasn’t really seeing the stars. There was a sudden twisting in his belly. Had he disappointed Kylo somehow? Was this all too mundane for him? “You thought for sure what?” he asked. Better to get it over with quickly.

But Kylo said, “I thought you’d be cruel.”

Hux swiveled to face him, eyebrows climbing his forehead. “Cruel? Why would I be cruel?”

“It’s just, the things you do, they affect so many people. And you do them without hesitation. Horrible—that is, things our enemies consider horrible—”

“Our enemies are weak, Ren,” Hux said, only noticing he’d used Kylo’s last name after he’d said it. This was a date, he reminded himself. He had specifically decided not to go looking for an argument with Kylo tonight. Hux steadied himself, tried to keep his voice calm. “Kylo. They won’t do what’s necessary, so we have to step in and do it for them,” he explained. “We have the right of things, and it is up to us to bring order to the galaxy.”

“The Starkiller,” Kylo said. “You made it a reality. And you’re in command of it. You  _wanted_ command of it.”

“Of course,” Hux said, fighting down irritation at this odd, cadet-level conversation. Kylo had had an unconventional upbringing, after all. “It’s my best option to bring order swiftly. We’ll save more lives than Starkiller takes by winning the war right away, and we’ll eliminate the largest roadblock to order at the same time.”

“Entire planets,” Kylo said. “Innocent people.” He was starting to sound a bit too much like the useless culture he’d escaped from.

“There isn’t an innocent being in the entire galaxy,” Hux reminded him firmly. “And putting down non-combatants is often the wisest, most efficient course of action. You’ve done it yourself, haven’t you?”

The knight went silent at that, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. In the blue glow of the starlight, sitting there swathed in loose robes, he looked rather like a child.

“But…you were following orders,” Hux realized. “You’ve never given the order yourself.” Kylo didn’t answer.

This was not the Kylo Ren Hux thought he knew. This was not a man dedicated to his cause.

Hux watched him quietly. He wondered if Supreme Leader Snoke knew his apprentice wavered this much. Surely he must. But…

Kylo turned his head to look at Hux. “How do you do it, Armitage?” he asked. His eyes were intent, searching. “How do you give the orders you give? How do you decide who lives or dies?”

“I’m just doing what’s right,” Hux said.

"But how do you know what’s right?”

What a ridiculous question. But it explained so much. Hux tapped his lower lip, considering how to answer. This was almost like trying to teach a burrafish how to fly. “Well,” he said, “I carefully evaluate every situation in order to draw the most logical conclusion, and I come up with a course of action based on that.” He paused. Kylo was a rather mystical person. Would logic even help him? “But also,” he added, “it’s in my heart. I feel what’s right. I know what’s right. I believe in order, and I know I can achieve it.”

Kylo gazed at him for a moment. “I wish—I wish I was like you,” he said at last.

Relief washed over Hux like a real-water shower. Kylo was misguided, a little lost, but he was dedicated after all, in his own peculiar way. Hux moved closer, settling back in next to Kylo so that their shoulders bumped together. Kylo was so strong, yet powerless, impotent, without guidance.

“It’s all right, Kylo,” Hux said. He wrapped an arm around Kylo’s broad shoulders. “I’ll help you.” He turned his head to smile at Kylo, and Kylo gave him a small, tentative smile in response. “It’ll get easier,” Hux assured him. “Don’t worry. Try giving the order yourself next time. You’ll see.”

Kylo ducked his head shyly in a way Hux never would have imagined before tonight, big brown eyes gazing up at him through thick, dark lashes. “Okay,” Kylo said.

Something swelled in Hux’s chest. He squeezed Kylo’s shoulders and echoed, “Okay.”

Kylo’s New Republic indoctrination would be difficult to shake off. It was insidious; it had been drummed into him since birth. But Kylo could do it. Hux could help him.

Kylo needed him.

Hux smiled, feeling warm, as they gazed out at the stars, at the galaxy that lay waiting before them.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you see what I was doing here...for more information, [check out this article](https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/psychology-writers/201208/why-bad-guys-think-theyre-good-guys).


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